


take a break

by daisy_chains



Series: Merlin Fics [35]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Gen, Humor, Post-Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-11-18 12:05:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18120494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisy_chains/pseuds/daisy_chains
Summary: Once the dust settles in the wake of reclaiming of Camelot, a break is needed. Slipping away for a hunting trip is, of course, the obvious choice.





	take a break

The sun beats down on the knights as they ride through the forest, laughing as they toss lighthearted taunts back and forth. At the lead, Prince Arthur rides, body loose and at ease for the first time since they had retaken Camelot. 

The hunting trip - Merlin’s idea, though he would never admit to it - had been carefully planned to serve as a distraction for the prince. It would do him good, they all knew, to take a brief break from the struggles of his new role as regent with the added burden of the slow recovery of Camelot and her people. And, in all honesty, it would do the rest of them good as well. 

“Leon,” calls Gwaine, dragging the senior knight back into the conversation, though not entirely unwillingly. “Who would you say has the best hair, our dear Sir Lancelot or yours truly?” 

“Well, isn’t that obvious?” Leon asks, fighting back a smile. “My hair is clearly the best.” 

Gwaine gasps indignantly, hand over his heart as he slouches back in his saddle. One look at his jokingly betrayed expression shatters any hopes Leon had of maintaining a straight face. Around them, the other knights join in with their mirth. 

“He isn’t wrong,” says Merlin, lips quivering with barely withheld laughter. “As lovely as your hair is, Gwaine, it just doesn’t have the curls to top Leon’s.” 

“Mate, I trusted you!” 

The honest shock in Gwaine’s voice sends another wave of laughter rolling through the group, and this time Merlin cannot help but join in. 

“I’ve been betrayed,” Gwaine says, glaring at Merlin with narrowed eyes. “My first friend, my dear secret keeper, how dare you!” 

“You’ll get over it by the time I’m bringing the prat his lunch tomorrow.” 

“Hey now.” 

“Don’t bother.” Arthur glances over his shoulder back at the knight. “We are all fully aware of how much you enjoy taking food off of the tray meant for the Prince of Camelot, Gwaine. I’ll be surprised if you last longer than breakfast.” 

“He’s merely assisting Merlin in his valiant efforts to keep you fighting fit, sire.” 

Arthur groans, and it is his turn to shoot a betrayed scowl at Elyan. He grins back, entirely unashamed. 

Mercifully, Elyan changes the subject soon after, taking the chance to share a story from his and Leon’s childhood that has Leon blushing redder than a tomato. Needless to say, the others laugh quite a bit at his expense. 

It’s only fair, of course, that he returns the favor. At some point, Elyan falls back almost behind Percival, half hiding his face behind the large knight as Lancelot pipes up for the first time since the “who has better hair” debate. 

“At least that is not as embarrassing as the time Gwaine dragged Merlin to the tavern and woke up with considerably less hair.” 

The knights roar in laughter, remembering the incident from the night after their retaking of Camelot. The celebratory drinks had been enjoyable, but the amusement that came the next day in the form of a scowling Merlin with his jacket pulled up over his head and a distraught Gwaine ranting hysterically at the grumbling man was better by far. 

“What, is this ‘pick on Gwaine’ day?” Gwaine demands, though his hand rises to touch his still-growing hair defensively. 

“No, but you do make it easy.” 

“Not you, too!” Gwaine despairs, turning away from Percival with a dramatic flick of his head which, if his hair had not been quite so brutally cut off, would have resulted in quite an impressive hair flip. “No one values loyalty these days.” 

Elyan snorts, muttering an unsavory comment under his breath that sends Arthur into a fit of laughter. Meanwhile, Merlin merely shakes his head, trying his best to look disapproving though his shaking shoulders give him away. 

“Should I be glad I did not catch that?” Lancelot asks, one corner of his lips quirking upward. “Considering the last time Elyan provoked that reaction from the prince, there was an unpleasant mental image accompanying the words, I would rather not repeat that experience.” 

“Don’t worry your innocent ears,” Elyan teases. “I won’t repeat it.” 

“Bold of you to assume these ears are innocent.” 

Leon, who had only a moment ago grabbed his water skin, chokes and nearly knocks himself out of the saddle. 

Percival reaches out to steady him, holding Leon’s arm until the knight manages to remind his lungs how to breathe. 

“Was that really that amusing?” 

“If it wasn’t before, it certainly is now.” 

Eventually, the sun begins its descent, and they guide their horses back toward Camelot. The banter does not fade, drawing laughter even as the city comes into view. 

They may come home empty handed, sure that their laughter scared off any prey long before they would have crossed paths, but the city walls no longer feel like a prison cell and Arthur remains relaxed, if alert. That is certainly the best catch they could hope for. 


End file.
